


Processing

by dillonmania



Category: DCU - Comicverse, The Flash (Comic)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-06
Updated: 2012-07-06
Packaged: 2017-11-09 07:05:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/452676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dillonmania/pseuds/dillonmania
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Barry's new powers are a blessing and a curse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Processing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Katzedecimal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katzedecimal/gifts).



> This fic is an odd hybrid of the New 52 Flashverse (because it incorporates Barry's augmented cognition ability) and Pre-boot continuity (because Roscoe Dillon still exists)...just roll with it. It's Katzedecimal's birthday fic for this year!

It was supposed to be easy money. A quick smash-n-grab at a jewellery store: five Rogues in and out with millions of dollars before the cops arrived. But as always, the Flash showed up to spoil their plans.   
“You’re gettin’ to be a bloody nuisance,” Digger complained loudly as he tossed three razor-rangs at the speedster, who effortlessly dodged the initial throw and their return.  
“For God’s sake, watch where you throw those things!” Len barked when the boomerangs embedded themselves in the wall near his head. The Flash’s slipstream had knocked them off-course towards the Rogues.

Roscoe stood motionless a short distance away, pondering his options for attack or escape. Pragmatism (and some lingering bits of loyalty) dictated a preference for assisting his comrades’ getaway, though he would abandon them if necessary. But an opportunity suddenly presented itself when Mick blasted the Flash with his heat-gun, leaving the man in red distracted, and Roscoe spun towards him almost immediately. It almost worked, but he didn’t count on the Flash’s own rapid reaction time; he took a hard punch to the face which broke his nose.

“Augh!” Roscoe yelped as he clutched at his face and retreated back to the others. That had been embarrassing, and definitely not what he’d anticipated.  
“Nice going,” Len said with a smirk, amused by his predicament and obviously-pained expression.  
“I don’t see you doing any better,” Roscoe snapped back. “He has us boxed in, and will take us down within a matter of moments.”  
“Not today, boys,” Mark announced imperiously as he rose several feet into the air. “Everybody duck. I’m going to storm.”  
“All right,” Len acknowledged as the others took temporary shelter behind a couple of counters. “Everyone else be ready to pour it on when he’s got the Flash on the ropes.” The Rogues nodded, glad to be working as a team, and Mark took a few moments to centre himself to focus the power of the wand.

But the strangest thing happened. Rather than running away or attacking Mark, the Flash remained frozen in place. His eyes moved rapidly, and his attention was fixed on something they couldn’t detect. All five Rogues stared at him with confusion.  
“What..?” Mick asked in wonder.

In his mind, Barry was seeing dozens of outcomes of the Rogues’ attack: Weather Wizard killing him with a bolt of lightning, Heat Wave melting the floor at his feet, the Top punching him in the throat, Captain Boomerang critically injured by errant lightning, the Rogues easily defeated, the store collapsing onto all six of them…the possibilities seemed endless. He was paralyzed as he was overwhelmed by a barrage of information, utterly unable to cope. And completely defenseless.

“It’s a trick,” Len snarled. “He’s trying to lure us in.”  
Roscoe cocked his head as he watched the Flash struggle with the input of data. The behaviour seemed familiar to him, and in a split second he decided to take advantage of it. “No, he’s vulnerable. Now’s our chance.”  
In an instant he was spinning towards the unmoving Flash while Len yelled at him. The Rogues expected their enemy would suddenly snap out of his supposed fugue and humiliate Roscoe a second time, but were startled to see the Flash collapse from one punch to the throat.  
“Go! Go!” Len ordered his troops, and now there was no hesitation. They ran for the front door and beat a hasty retreat back to their safehouse. Nobody even looked back.

“What the hell was that about?” Len demanded as Roscoe gingerly held a bag of ice to his swollen nose. He was understandably upset about his injury, but also decidedly pleased with himself for arranging their escape. Though how was he to explain what had happened in layman’s terms to such intellectual inferiors?  
“Imagine the Flash is a computer -- well, all humans are, essentially. He is just a faster one than most,” Roscoe said after several moments’ thought. “When a computer is overtaxed with too many requests, such as if you’re attempting to open several of your dreadful porn sites at the same time, it locks up. It can’t handle all the input. That is what happened to the Flash today, I believe.”

“How do you know all this?” Mick asked with a mixture of astonishment and skepticism, and Roscoe fixed him with a patented scornful stare.  
“Because I am a genius, of course,” he replied coldly. He’d be damned if he’d ever tell the Rogues about his own informational processing issues; there was no way he wanted them knowing such details about himself. It would leave him open to mockery and manipulation. As always, he’d fall back on the “I’m smarter than you” routine and keep certain particulars private. The Rogues were simple men and didn’t understand the autism spectrum or processing disorders, and it wasn’t something he felt like explaining to them.

“Whatever,” Len snorted, perpetually irritated by Roscoe’s superiority complex. As far as he was concerned, the Top was barely worth tolerating, although admittedly he’d pulled his own weight today. But he was an incredibly exasperating man, and easily the most obnoxious one on the team.  
“Beer’s in the fridge and there’s old pizza on the table,” Len told the others wearily. “I’m gonna veg in front of the TV.” He was relieved when Roscoe wasn’t among the Rogues to join him, as he already had enough of a headache for one day. 

For his part, Roscoe retreated to a quiet corner of the safehouse to soothe his over-stimulated nerves. It was interesting, he reflected silently, just how many similarities there were between himself and the Flash. Under different circumstances, perhaps they could have been friends.


End file.
